


So Much More

by magnuspr1m3



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Human, Angst, Drug Addiction, Hurt No Comfort, Implied/Referenced Drug Use, M/M, Musician Lucifer, Not A Happy Ending
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-26
Updated: 2017-07-26
Packaged: 2018-12-07 03:50:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,076
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11615289
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/magnuspr1m3/pseuds/magnuspr1m3
Summary: A kind, yet drunken, cardiologist and a druggy wind up in a cab together one night, accidentally.  It is there that Balthazar meets Lucifer for the first time, meets the first person in years to see him - to really see him - and not run away. In fact, after a drunken one night stand, Lucifer asks him to dinner. One date turns into two, then three, then four, and... well, the rest was history, really.





	So Much More

**Author's Note:**

> This does not have a happy ending, not really. Hell, it isn't really happy anywhere, except a few brief parts. This story is a roller coaster, one that I have left sitting on my computer for years now, waiting for the right time to post it. This story is one that I feel deeply connected to, for more reason than one. It isn't pretty, or the most well-written thing you will ever read. It isn't deeply profound, either. It is just... a story about when love is not enough. When the right person comes along at the wrong time.
> 
> If you are sensitive to mentions of drug abuse, or panic attacks, or suicide, please do not read this.
> 
> You've all been warned.

He had known this was not what he wanted in life. It was entirely his own fault; he gave into what his family wanted, and in doing this wound up hating the person he was becoming. It was a good person. A respectable person. Lucifer saw himself as neither of these things. When he was not in the hospital working out his residency he spent his time in his shitty studio apartment smoking weed and willing himself out of existence. He would turn the music up so loud he could no longer hear the words. All he could do was feel the whole apartment shake with the music, feel himself shake. But, at work, he was very polite, proper. His hair was not a complete mess and his eyes not red (whether from weed or a gross lack in sleep he did not know for sure). He smiled at nearly everyone, made small talk with coworkers, and helped patients with an odd sort of gentleness that those who knew him as a teen were often confused by.

In short there were two sides to Lucifer. He felt like he would soon fall apart at the seams if he kept this charade up.

 

As a teen Lucifer wanted to be a musician. A rock star. He learned to play any instrument he could get his hands on and he could play each of them well. During his junior year of high school he actually started a band with a few friends. They played a couple gigs, gathered a small following. It was fantastic. Each time they played his pulse would get going so fast he thought his heart might explode and he could not get enough. He wrote music and songs until he would pass out each night only a few hours before having to wake up and head to school. His grades, which were once impeccable, began to plummet and he did not care. He was too happy with how his life was going. In music Lucifer found himself.

But his declining grades concerned his family; rightly so, of course, since he would soon be applying to colleges. Bad grades did not get you into college, let alone with scholarships. There were lots of arguments for a while in his house. They usually ended with him locking himself away or getting in his car and driving off for the night. They never looked for him, like they had completely given up on him. The guilt that built up inside of him whenever he returned home, the silence that eventually settled over the house when his family did give up, was what caused him to give up his happiness. He locked all of his instruments away except his keyboard and buried himself in schoolwork.

Lucifer graduated top of his class, if only because his teachers were very gracious. He got a full ride to every school he applied to. He got his doctorate. He was almost done with his residency. His life should have been perfect.

 

It was rare when his best friend was in town. Lucifer always made time to hang out with him when he was. He very rarely got to see Gabriel anymore now that the band Gabe drummed for was taking off. It was bittersweet to him sometimes. When they had been in high school Gabe thought being in a band was stupid, but he had played with Lucifer and a few other guys anyway. Now he was doing it for a living.

Lucifer ignored the bit of jealousy he felt as he waited for his friend in the same bar they always went to together. It was one of those hole in the wall places where Lucifer would not run into any coworkers and Gabe was unlikely to see any fans. The fact that it was a gay bar was another plus for them both. Lucifer enjoyed the attention the various guys generally gave him. He never paid them any attention in return, more than content to just be flirted at and leave the random hook ups to Gabriel. He was not interested in contracting any STDs.

            You’re thinking so loudly. The voice caught Lucifer’s attention and he spun around to see his friend. Gabe had a smirk stuck on his face that always drove Lucifer insane. His light brown hair was slicked back, just as it had been every day of high school. His eyes were a honey brown that had always intrigued Lucifer; his own eyes were a generic bright blue. His friend was not wearing anything to flashy, thankfully. Gabe had once shown up in leather pants and Lucifer had wanted to strangle him for dressing like that in public.

            One of us has to think. It was the same response he had used a thousand times before but it was fitting.

            Gabe rolled his eyes, shoving Lucifer lightly as he sat beside him at the bar. Oh, shut up. Did you order me a drink?

            No. You can order your own girly ass drink.

            It is a martini. It is not girly.

            It is fruit flavored. Definitely girly.

 

A couple hours passed by with the two drinking at a pace that was just a bit too fast. Lucifer felt a lovely warmth in his stomach, and a nice warmth in his chest being in his best friend’s company. Gabe was a hoot, always, but part of what Lu really enjoyed about being around him was not having to pretend. He could just be _him_ , and it was so freeing.

            And Gabe was likely sick of the man telling him this for the fourth time that night. The shorter man was shrugging his arm off of his shoulders once more, rolling his eyes at his friend. Lu was not known for his alcohol tolerance. You don’t have work tomorrow, do you? He asked his friend, rather hoping he did not. It would certainly not look good if Lu showed up hungover.

            Nope. He popped the p when he spoke, giggling softly to himself.

            Gabriel thought he might roll his eyes up into his skull at that. Some things had definitely not changed from high school and college apparently. Jesus, Lu, you’re like a child. He grumbled some, pulling his wallet out and throwing a couple bills down on the bar and nodding to the bartender. I may be back. Gotta get this one home.

            Which really wound up just being Gabriel shoving Lucifer into a cab and tossing some bills at the driver after telling him Lu’s address. Please make sure he actually gets to the door. That should be plenty more than it would take to get him home, so don’t try and argue ‘oh that’ll be extra’, he had snarked some at the disgruntled looking cabbie before shutting the door on his friend and heading back inside. Lu would get home just fine.

            The cab did not move, though, before someone else pulled the door open and stumbled in, practically sitting atop Lu. The other man, who looked like he may have been just a tad older and was obviously high, waved off the cab driver’s complaints, insisting that he was with the other man. Lu said nothing against it, just grinning and scooting over some so the other man was not directly on top of him. He liked his hair.

            The other snorted, smirking at him. Thanks.

            Oh, Lu had said that out loud. Hmm. That was not good. Or was it? He did not know either way. He was much too far gone by that point, and did not care as the cab pulled up outside his apartment building and the stranger helped him up to his apartment. He would not remember it in the morning anyway.

 

Although his brain did not remember it in the morning, his body surely did. And, if his body had not had that pleasant, post-sex ache, he was sure the naked man in his bed beside him would have _definitely_ let him know that something had happened last night. Which was more than a tad bizarre, because Gabe was usually very good about making sure he did not take someone home with him. He chuckled as he imagined how much Gabe must have had to drink to let this happen.

            He let his head loll to the side once more to take in the man sleeping beside him. He was relatively fair skinned, with short, blond hair that stuck out at odd angles. There were faint hints of wrinkles around his mouth; smile lines. Lu did his best to imagine a smile on the man’s face, staring at him thoughtfully. He imagined the man had a nice enough smile. He could not remember the state of his teeth, though, and that was very important to the quality of one’s smile. Hell, Lu could not even remember what the other’s voice sounded like, and that was a slightly disturbing thought. What if he was a smoker, with one of those horribly raspy voices? What if kissing him really had tasted like an ashtray? His face scrunched up at the thought, and he was startled briefly by a chuckle from beside him.

            Is my morning breath really that bad? The other grumbled, just a hint of morning rasp to his voice. Lu could not have told someone why that fact was relieving to him at the time, but it was.

            He leaned forward just a tad and pretended to smell the air. Nah, you are fine. He assured, smirking for a moment. The other reached out quick as a flash and pinched his nipple, cause him to practically jump out of the bed. Ow! Fuck, not cool! Who goes for the nipple?

            Balthazar. Just Balthazar for you, the other – _Balthazar –_ responded. He wore a proud grin as he slowly climbed out of the bed, stretching his arms up high and not seeming even a little bashful about his body. Lu’s brain almost insisted that he did not need to be bashful, until that came to a screeching halt when the other finally turned around and he was able to see scars and track marks littering his arms.

            Fuck, Lucifer thought. I brought home a druggy.

.   .   .

He knew he had a problem. Of course he did. It was not like he really _enjoyed_ his addiction, not like he once had. But, fact of the matter was that he _was_ addicted, and rehab was not cheap. Probably cheaper in the long run than spending all of his money on heroine and cocaine. The thing about addiction, though, was that once you tried to quit you craved it even more. It was terrible.

            But that was not actually his problem at the time. No, his problem was that the poor fool he had snagged a ride home with and fucked well into the next morning had swapped numbers with him and now wanted to go out for dinner. Dinner. With him. Balthazar was still trying desperately to wrap his mind around the fact that the man he had had sex with – who, by the way, was named _Lucifer_ – had not immediately thrown him out the next morning, let alone that he wanted to go out on a _date_. The man was obviously crazier than he had let on, and was likely going to harvest Balth’s organs and sell them on the black market to grow that rather large instrument collection he had in his apartment.

            (Seriously, though, that man had so many instruments. There was no way he played all of them, absolutely not.)

            He was tempted to just ignore the text message. Nothing good would come out of it, really. The other had to know that. Lucifer probably had some nice, respectable job, and Balthazar occasionally gave drug dealers blowjobs in sleazy back alleyways. They were as opposite as it got, and this would end terribly for both of them.

            Balthazar texted him back asking when and where to meet him anyway. The other was attractive, and Balthazar needed something to help get his mind off things.

 

Their first date was an absolute disaster, and Balthazar never wanted to think about it ever again. If asked, he would simply reply with: I tried to run out four times and spilled a giant margarita all over Lu. He was honestly surprised there was a second date, but Lucifer swore up and down that he had enjoyed himself and was not the least bit bothered by how skittish Balth had been, or being soaked with margarita. At the end of the date, when Lucifer had asked him to go out again the next night and Balth had tried to run once more, the man gently grabbed one of his hands and looked him in the eyes. Hey, you okay? His voice had been so soft, and his concern seemed so genuine. Balth had just stared back, nodding just enough for it to be noticeable. He felt a light squeeze to his hand, expecting the other to then let go.

            He did not.

            Which was how he found himself roped into going out _again_. He had picked the place this time, a simple little café that served one of his favorite teas and boasted the best open mic night in New York City. It was familiar enough that Balth hoped he would be much less frantic, but nice enough that he would not feel bad about taking a person there on a second date. The staff there were relatively friendly, and the décor was nice, if a bit hipster-esque.

            Balth had apparently struck gold with his date idea. Lu had been captivated by the place, as well as the live music. It had been fun to watch him listen to it, twitching occasionally at an out of tune chord, and clapping probably louder than any other patron at the café whenever someone finished their set. He was so into it that he did not pay attention when their food did arrive, and Balth had to remind the other to eat before his soup got cold.

            It was absolutely adorable.

            That second date, and how Lucifer had acted, was reason enough for a third, fourth, and fifth date. After that, it really just became about how much Balthazar actually enjoyed being around Lucifer. Lucifer _became_ his new drug, his addiction. The way the man kissed drove him up a wall, and his smiles sent Balth’s heartrate through the roof. He was completely and totally gone on the other man, and he could not find it in himself to care.

 

Do you want to die? Lu had yelled, and although his voice was harsh, his eyes were overflowing with tears just like Balthazar’s own as the man shook the drugs at him. Lu was not supposed to find them, Balth had made almost certain of that. Seemed his planning and clever hiding places had not been clever enough. That was the whole reason he had postponed Lucifer coming to his place for the first three months they had been dating; he had not wanted the other to have to see that side of him. To meet the drug-addicted monster that he really was. Do you?

            How was he supposed to answer that question? Did the other really want his honest answer? Part of Balth doubted that, but he was so far gone at the moment that he could not care. With tears streaming down his chin now and drenching his shirt, he shouted back a simple reply. An honest reply. Yes! Just one word, one word and he saw Lucifer freeze. Balth had his hands clenched at his sides and found he was breathing harder than usual, likely from being so worked up. He sunk into himself some under Lu’s gaze, bringing his hands together in front of him as he dropped his eyes down. His now slumped shoulders still quivered with his soft sobs. Yes, he whispered.

            Why? A gentle hand on his upper arm startled him, no thanks to the anxiety riddling his system. He tried to shove the other away, but there was no force behind it. Balthazar found himself wrapped tightly in the other’s embrace a moment later, head pulled to rest in the crook of Lu’s neck. Fingers wound their way into his hair, serving as a grounding presence and keeping him in place. Why would you… _why_?

            He shrugged as best he could, ignoring how loud his sobs had grown as he pressed his face into the other’s shoulder to try and stifle them and calm his breathing. Lucifer shushed him gently, hand in his hair massaging his scalp slowly. He did his best to focus on that, to ground himself then and there and not think about how much he hated crying in front of Lu, or how the other was likely to leave him. No one wanted to date a druggy. They were too much work. A suicidal druggy? That was a disaster waiting to happen. Why risk the heartbreak? Lu was sure to leave him, and then Balth would likely overdose alone and die in a puddle of his own vomit on the floor of the dingy bathroom of his even dingier apartment. Such was his fate.

            That thought made the anxiety worse, and he found himself hyperventilating suddenly. Or was it that he had been already, but was just now more aware of it? Whatever the case was, he was gradually spiraling out of control. His heart pounded loudly, his head spun, and he felt as if the world was about to close in on him. I just want this to stop. He sobbed loudly. I-I just want this to be over. I just want it to stop…

            Lucifer held him until the episode subsided, and even longer after that. The man stayed right there, whispering soothing words to Balthazar the entire time. I love you, Bal. He had whispered, over and over again. I love you.

            He could not find it in himself to say it back, not then. He did not know how to even react at the time. He just listened to the other, never making a sound aside from the occasional hiccup.

 

Balthazar could not say he was surprised when Lu picked him up for dinner one night and he spotted the other’s acoustic guitar sitting in the backseat. He should have suspected something, after spotting the instrument out of its case the last few times he had been over to his boyfriend’s apartment. He smirked at Lu, who looked pointedly forward and did not comment about it. Open mic night also fell on date night, like it generally did when they went to the café. What a coincidence.

            You’re adorable, he teased.

            I have no clue what you are talking about.

 

When Lu finally went up on stage, Balthazar made sure to set his phone up on their table. There was no way he was going to miss a second of this. This was a momentous occasion, after all. He made sure the phone had the right angle as Lu got situated, before turning his attention completely to the other. He watched Lu anxiously clear his throat, before leaning towards the mic and introducing himself as just Lu. This is an original song, he said, settling back a bit from the mic. For someone… very special to me.

            Oh fuck, he wasn’t, was he? He could not possibly…

            God, Lu was. He was singing a love song, maintaining firm eye contact with Balth as he sang. He could barely even hear the lyrics over the pounding of his heart loud in his ears. Oh god. Oh god. The snippets he could make out over his own freaking out did not help with his freaking out. _I’ve spent life searching for so much more, and I don’t want to look anymore…_ When had he possibly had the time to write a love song anyway? He was almost always at work, and when he was not, Balthazar was with him. Sneaky asshole. Balthazar would have to get him back.

            He chose the moment Lu stopped playing to do just that. He rushed the other, taking extremely large strides to make it to him and on to the small stage while people were still clapping. He took Lucifer’s face in his hands, holding tightly as he whispered out quickly, I love you. It sounded a bit harsh and desperate, but now, two months after the other’s confession, he was sure. I love you. The crowds clapping began anew as the two kissed as if their lives depended on it. It was like the first time – well, the first _actual_ time, because drunken kisses did not count – all over again. The heat in his groin was just as strong, the excited flutter of his heart likely faster, and his head was dizzy with the feel of the other’s lips on his, or Lu’s hands in his hair.

            I love you.

 

Lucifer quit his job two weeks later.

            The moment he got back to his apartment, where Balthazar had been waiting, his phone was ringing. The scowl the other gave the cell phone was more than a bit worrying to Balthazar, who raised a brow in question as Lucifer put the phone to his ear with a grumbled greeting. Balthazar leaned forward on the couch some, being just as nosy as he ever was when Lucifer was on the phone.

            It’s my life, Michael. I’m living it, Lu had snapped not even a full minute into the call. A-ha. Balthazar settled back some. It was simply Michael, likely calling to scold his brother for quitting his job. That was not really that surprising, or interesting. Michael was Lucifer’s twin brother, who, like his brother, had pushed by their parents to make the most of his education; he had chosen to become a lawyer, while Lucifer had picked being a doctor. From what Lucifer had told Balthazar of his twin, they were actually opposite’s in almost every sense. Lucifer had lighter hair, and Michael had hair that was almost pitch black.

            And, if you asked Balthazar, Michael was an utter dick. The one time Balthazar had met Michael, the man had called him a prostitute and asked Lucifer where he had found such ‘gutter filth.’ Balthazar had huffed indignantly and responded with a simple, you couldn’t even pay me to fuck you, sweetheart. Lu had grinned so brightly at the insult, like a kid on Christmas morning.

 

Living in the city became too expensive for them both, with Lucifer focusing on his music and Balthazar working whatever job he could find at the time. So, reluctantly, they found a place a little way outside of the city and moved together. A fresh start, Lu had called it. It would get Balth away from his old dealer, and Lu away from all those toxic memories of living under his parents’ – and then later his brother’s – thumb.

            It gave them both a chance to try and make something out of themselves, to be happy. Together.

            It felt like running, if you asked Balthazar. They could have found a cheaper place in the city. He said that, over and over again. They did not have to leave. They could make it work, if they wanted to. He just did not think that Lucifer wanted to some times. When he was still working at the hospital, Balth felt like they had not seen each other very often, but had still spent their shared free time together. Now that Lu was focused on his music and not working, Balth felt like he actually never saw him. Like his lover had left him and been replaced by some obsessive freak.

            The small bit of hope inside of him that getting away from his past would bring back the Lucifer that Balthazar had fallen in love with is what led him to follow the other out of the city anyway. Not the promise of a new start that Lu kept pushing, because Balthazar was in his early thirties and found the idea of a fresh start to be laughable by at the time.

 

Lu, of course, did not get a job when they moved. He had his music to work on, demos to push out. He was a busy man, he always told Balthazar. So the other stopped asking him if he had applied to places and just began picking up extra shifts. He would rather be at work hating his life than at home being ignored by his lover and hating his life. Balthazar worked himself until he was exhausted, and then went home and passed out. He stopped paying attention to the ache in his chest whenever he would wake up the next morning finding Lucifer passed out on the couch instead of in bed with him.

            He had realized what the other’s priorities were a while ago, and had resigned himself to this fact.

.   .   .

They had both known this was going to happen eventually, after Lucifer’s single had actually made it to the top five on the charts. The calls from record companies had put Lucifer over the moon with joy. He had finally gotten his big break. He was going to be able to actually make money doing what he loved.

He just had to move back to the city.

Balthazar had been counting down the days. Lucifer was avoiding packing, always putting it off in favor of playing this instrument, writing that song, watching this movie. Balthazar played along with it like nothing was going to change. Like Lucifer was not going straight back to where they had just escaped from, to all of those memories. And Balthazar was just going to let him go. Why would he go with him? He was only going to hold him back.

            Every time Lucifer suggested it, Balthazar would say exactly that.

 

Every couple has their fights. No healthy relationship is without them. And Balthazar and Lucifer had certainly fought more than their fair share in the past, especially before they were an actual couple. Yet, this was different somehow. Neither of them seemed to be really fighting anymore. They were just going through the motions of it all. Insults were thrown around, feelings stomped upon, and dreams crushed. You should come with me! Lucifer had yelled this so furiously one time in the middle of an argument that had started about Lucifer waking Balthazar up when he had suddenly decided to play the piano at three in the morning.

            Balthazar had actually frozen at the angry suggestion, panting some from his own yelling. Lucifer stared at him, watching him expectantly. You know why I can’t.

            That is complete bullshit, Balth. Come with me.

            I can’t. He would not hold him back. It hurt, because he loved him, but this was all a temporary thing. Lucifer was and probably always would be searching for so much more than Balthazar could offer him. Love could only get one so far in life.

            But I need you… Lucifer’s words fell upon deaf ears. Balthazar was not going with him. His mind was made up.

 

In the last few days before his departure Lucifer stayed completely silent. He moved so slowly about their home, dragging his feet from one room to the next. He spent hours sitting at the piano, fingers resting on the keys but no sound coming forth. When only one day remained and he had not packed, Balthazar did so for him. The other stood there and watched him blankly for a while, not moving to help as he put each article of clothing into the suitcase. That was what possibly made it harder for Balthazar; Lucifer’s grey eyes watching with what could almost be called disinterest instead of forced detachment. This was for the best, though. If he did not do this, Lucifer would not and he would never make his flight back to New York. This was Lucifer’s big break. This was that so much more Lucifer had written that song about. Not Balthazar, like the blond had once wished, but this.

            I can’t leave you. Lucifer’s voice was rough from a couple days without use, or so Balthazar hoped. That was not emotion. This was not going to be rough. They would get through this, go their separate ways. Perhaps even meet up again someday to reminisce.

            You have to.

 

The last night they would have had together, Lucifer curled up in the basement with his guitar. Over and over, he played the first song he had written after quitting his job. Balthazar could hear him as his voice started to go hoarse after a few hours. _I’ve spent life searching for so much more_ … That line echoed throughout the house. _And I don’t want to look anymore…_

            Idiot. Balthazar muttered, leaning against the locked door and holding himself. The floor grew closer and he let himself go. It was not going to be easy when Lucifer was gone, by any stretch of the word. Balthazar doubted it would ever be easy without Lucifer in his life. But, the other did not know what was best for him. He needed a push. Balthazar was no good for him. Lucifer just did not see that yet.

            _Baby, hold me tight and sing with me through the night…_

 

They met up several months after Balthazar had started his new job. He was on a business trip to New York, and had drunkenly called up Lucifer. I miss you. The words were slurred together but true nonetheless. I’m in town. I need to see you. Which was how they had both awkwardly wound up at the old bar they used to go to. It was one of those whole in the wall bars that no one would be super likely to recognize Lucifer at, so it worked out. Balthazar showed up a little late and ran smack into Lucifer who was leaving and looked rather flustered.

            I thought you weren’t coming. The words left the other’s mouth when their eyes met. Lucifer looked… rough. His eyes were slightly sunken in and he was noticeably thinner. His eyes flicked back and forth, as if he were searching for a way to escape.

            Balth rested a gentle hand on his shoulder. Let’s go sit down. He guided Lucifer back inside and the night went on similarly; Lucifer acting frantic and Balthazar being there to reassure him. It was bizarre, how their positions had flip-flopped. To see Lucifer struggling with some sort of addiction…

            It made Balthazar understand a little bit of how the other had felt so early on in their relationship. But, Lucifer was surrounded by people that could, and hopefully would, get him help. Hell, they probably already were. Lu was their little moneymaker now, of course. He had hit number one with his first album, and had held the spot for three weeks. He had a tour coming up that had already sold out a few venues. Someone other than Balthazar would notice.

 

When Lu tried to bring Balthazar back to his apartment that night, from that same bar they had met at nearly two and half years ago, Balthazar shook his head. He gently pushed the man into a cab, handing the driver an extra twenty to make sure Lucifer actually made it into his apartment alright. He leaned in the door of the backseat for a moment, looking at the other who just grinned up at him drunkenly.

            I love you, Lu had said, blue eyes shining.

            Bile rose up in Balthazar’s throat, heart clenching tightly in his chest. He nodded, wishing that the other had thought to stop and say that all those months ago, when he was too busy making music to notice Balthazar working himself to death to keep them in their new apartment. He wished Lu had thought to say that when he had finally hit it big with that first single, instead of when he had to leave him. Hell, he had not even needed to hear it, if the other had just _acted_ like it at the time, maybe they would not be there.

            But he had not.

            Balthazar gave one more shaky nod, standing up quickly so the other would not be able to see the tears forming in his eyes. Love you, too, Luci. He mumbled, slamming the door shut and waving the driver away. He walked back to his hotel room that night, hands deep in his pocket and shoulders hiked up as if to block out the cold. He was really just hoping it would help hide his sobs.

            He would not see Lucifer Shurley again after that.

.   .   .

They had all seen it coming. Some expected it sooner, but that did not mean that none of them were not saddened by the news. The band threw a huge memorial for Lucifer, calling in any person they could think he may want there. Which just so happened to be how Balthazar found himself back in New York. He had spent the better part of the last five years picking up the pieces of his life and trying to make something of himself. He was still working at it some, but he could at least say now that he was happy where he was. Little could make his life better.

            The funeral reminded him of the one thing that could.

            They looped a bunch of Lucifer’s old videos from open mic nights he would play while people filed into the building. Balthazar was stuck in place when he noticed, having been lost in the flow of people and trying to just focus on grabbing a seat. There Lucifer was; not the crazed drug addict that the public knew, but the man who had just quit his job as a doctor and asked a drug addict to move in with him. It was the Lucifer that Balthazar fell for. They even played the video of Lucifer serenading him (although he noticed they cut out the part where Balthazar went on stage and kissed the living hell out of the asshole).

            Was all of this really happening? He tried to convince himself it was not, that this was another elaborate ruse to get him back. But he could remember the other, so lost in drugs even back then. It amused him how their positioned had flipped. Lucifer was the druggy on his deathbed and Balthazar was the respectable one. The only difference was that Balthazar could have done nothing to save Lucifer, except maybe loved him more. And with that thought in mind, he took a seat and tried to quell the aching in his chest.

 

Balthazar. It took him a moment to notice someone trying to get his attention. His head snapped up quickly and he nearly flipped his chair over.

            Gabe! You son of a bitch! The other was a sight for sore eyes if Balthazar ever saw one. He grabbed the other and pulled him close, not caring what others may think. Few people here knew him anyway. It has been too long.

            Well, after you blew off Lucifer, I thought it would be wrong to talk to you. The words stung, just as the look that accompanied them did. Gabe pushed him away, albeit gently. You left him alone when he needed you, Balth. He thought you didn’t love him. He actually thought _he_ was not good enough for _you_. Can you believe that?

            Gabe, listen-

            No, you listen! My best friend _killed himself_ because you thought you two could not be together. He did drugs because it was the only way to get you out of his mind. Remember when it was in the news that he went to rehab? He was in a psych ward because he tried to OD on sleeping pills! The shorter man pressed forward with each word, almost steering Balthazar backwards through the crowd. Eyes were starting to get drawn their way and the blond did his best to quiet the other.

            Gabe, seriously, now isn’t the time. You-

            You’re damn right it isn’t the time, because he is already _fucking dead!_

            Balthazar had not expected the fist, or the suddenly bloody nose.

 

The headstone was not extremely ornate, although Balthazar found that fitting after everything that had happened. It said:

_Lucifer Shurley_

_1977-2015_

_Looking For So Much More_

 

It was unfortunate that Lucifer had not found what he had wanted after so long. Or, if he had, it had not been what he expected. Balth stood out there by that grave for a long time, taking it in in silence, thankful that no one else was there.

            I thought I was going to relapse without you. He had no clue why he was bothering with talking to a headstone. It could not talk back or anything. I was so worried that the moment you left I was going to go and buy whatever drug I could get my hands on. But… I was wrong. I made it, so I was so sure you could, too. I- I thought we did not really need each other as much as we thought we did. Seemed like you did, though. I am sorry, Lucifer. I had no clue what would happen. But I don’t regret it; not completely. I am in a better place now. There was only one way it could be better than now, but I had long given up on that.

            Balthazar hated rain. His cheeks were soaked and his eyelashes stuck together. He had not even realized when it started raining in his rambling. It hurt his nose, especially the parts bruised around it, whenever he would sniffle. Gabe hit me. Broke my nose. He would have laughed if he did not worry about it hurting him any. You would have laughed. Or hit him, I’m not entirely sure anymore. He settled into the grass before the grave, staring forward as if Lucifer were across from him and not just his name. Do you remember the night before you left? You sang that song so much. I wish you had not locked the door. Maybe, if I had gone down there, things could be different.

            He looked up at the sky, hand shielding his eyes from the sun. He wiped away the rain and sighed. We were both looking for so much more in life, but were too stupid to see it when we actually found it. I’m sorry, Lucifer.

            Y’know, he really loved you. The voice from behind startled him, but he did not turn to look at the person addressing him. He knew Michael’s voice well enough from the many times Lucifer had called him on speakerphone in the apartment. He did not know why he was honestly surprised that Michael was here; sure, when he had first met Lucifer, the two had practically been at each other’s throats when they even heard the other’s voice. The twins had slowly gotten closer once Lu had given up his job and was no longer miserable, right before he had left Balthazar. It had been a welcome change. Part of me wishes that maybe… you know, we had put our issues aside sooner. I feel like I did not really get that much time with _him_ , instead of who he thought our parents wanted him to be.

            You lived your entire life with him; from conception on. Balthazar grumbled some. Balth had only had him for just over two years before he was forcing Lu out to chase his dreams. Michael had known him plenty, had had multiple opportunities to get to know him better if he really wanted to. Balthazar, though? Balthazar did not. And, of course it was stupid of him to be jealous of the other now, and to be rude – the man had just lost his twin brother after all. He hated this bitter feeling welling up in his chest. Because Michael had had so much time to try and know Lucifer. You had plenty of time.

            Balthazar just wanted a little bit more. Standing there over that headstone, dried blood crusted up under his nose and around his chin, his heart ached more than his probably broken nose. He longed for the love he had lost, the one he had let go to pursue the very dreams that wound up driving him to kill himself. He desperately wished Lucifer would pop out of some bush somewhere, shouting that it was some elaborate prank. God, please. He whispered. Please. What he would give to have the one person that could make his life better. Hell, he would give up everything else that made his life better, just to go back to that apartment back in the city, where they had come to love each other.

            There was no going back, though. Lucifer was gone.

            With a deep breath, Balthazar turned away from the grave. He walked passed Michael, ignoring the other’s gaze. A soft breeze blew by, causing him to pull his jacket tighter around himself as he walked back to his car. Climbing in, he wiped the last of the rain drops from his face. The sun shined brightly in the sky, not a cloud in sight. It was such a beautiful day, the kind Lucifer would have once dragged him to Central Park for a picnic, early in their relationship.

            So Balthazar went there, to lay in the grass and stare up at the sun. He heard the laughter of children and couples all around him, and found comfort in their happiness. Found that the world really was not as dark and gloomy as he thought it should be, now that Lucifer was gone. Was reminded that Lucifer had been gone from his life for years now, and he had learned to be happy in the time since. He had built his life back up; hell, he had a rather nice accounting job with an _actual_ company now. He had a nice home, and friends that did not just lurk around him for drugs or easy sex. He could be happy without Lucifer. Had been for years. He just needed to remember that.

There, in the grass at Central Park in the middle of October, he did.


End file.
